


What's Home Anymore

by LegendaryDonut



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Dragon Arc (Tokyo Ghoul: re), additional tags will be added as needed, and depression, lots of unprocessed trauma, nothing too dark, years after canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryDonut/pseuds/LegendaryDonut
Summary: After the Dragon was destroyed, Tokyo started to heal. The Tokyo Security Committee works tirelessly to overcome the systemic hatred of ghouls, slowly but surely. A new TSC program offers hope to wayward, dejected ghouls: Rehabilitation and Reintegration. With their help, even the most despicable ghouls can become contributing members of society! Takizawa Seidou, on the other hand, was not like most ghouls.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	1. Your Own Place

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stoppin' in! I got frustrated with the lack of Takizawa fics, so I figured I'd contribute.
> 
> This fic is a work in progress. Suggestions and critiques are always welcome.
> 
> Come on down and join Seidou on his journey through Unsolved Trauma and Depression! He may even make a few friends along the way.

Seidou breathed in deeply through his nose, face pinched in a weird half-smile, half-grimace. His mom was squeezing his shoulders and chattering in his ear, but it was echoey and far away. The room in front of him was spinning a little bit, which certainly didn't bode well for his somersaulting guts.

His own dorm room. His _own_ place, not to be shared with anyone else. Not with his mom, or his dad, or even his obnoxious little sister. He should be thrilled to be out of his childhood home. It was a sign of growing up, becoming independent.

Tell that to his stuttering heart.

"Look at this, Seidou!" his mom was exclaiming. She had wandered deeper into the apartment, cheerfully examining a miniature coffee maker. "I've always wanted one of these."

 _Then take it. And me, preferably._ Seidou bit down those words and instead huffed out a laugh.

Anxiety aside, the place was rather nice. Chewing on his lip, Seidou shuffled his way through the dorm room, taking in the bare walls and short doorways. It came with some necessities, including the tiny coffee pot, as well as a matching mini refrigerator and microwave. Everything a budding college student would need, he supposed. Truth be told, he expected more coming from a prestigious program in the CCG. When his mother turned to him with a sappy smile, he realized he couldn't bring up his qualms, not to her.

"My boy," she said, and Seidou visibly sighed. _Here she goes._ "I can't believe it....

" _You're a man now._ "

Reflecting back on it, the least the CCG could've given him was a house plant. Something to spruce up the place. If they were feeling really generous, they could've _not sent him to die on a suicide mission._

The anxiety of moving out of your parents' house was a joke compared to the soul-wrenching pain induced by writing your own will.

Bitterness was bubbling up inside of him faster than he could swallow it down. Softly illuminated by the fluorescent light filtering under his closed door, Takizawa Seidou planted his face into his pillow. Nights like these made every atom in his body ache. His mind was attracted to angry memories like moths to a lamp. It was like an exhausting hobby.

Outside the dark, confined apartment room, other tenants could be heard causing a ruckus. Talking loudly, laughing louder. The occasional crash of furniture collapsing to the shitty carpeted floor. Hands lazily crumpled over his ears, Takizawa drowned out the noise by gritting his teeth and focusing on his own irregular breathing. One thing the CCG dorm had on this place was quieter neighbors.

The wee hours of the morning came and went, and the lump of half-ghoul lying atop dirty sheets didn't move from the bed. Didn't move much at all, actually.

As she did every morning, the complex owner made her rounds of the rooms. A spry old woman, a ghoul, she scooted her wobbling cart down the halls of the building, dropping off amenities as she went. A trail of overpowering, flowery perfume followed her, and even through a sleep-deprived haze, Takizawa could smell her coming. The shadows that appeared through the crack under his door signaled her arrival, as did the unapologetically loud knocking soon after.

True to routine, the lady opened the door without waiting for a response that wouldn't have come. The light from the hallway burst into the musty cave of a dorm room, and Takizawa made an indignant noise and twisted his face into his pillow. Her voice was almost as grating.

"Breakfast time, sunshine," she crowed. "C'mon-- up."

Peeking with one eye slit open, Takizawa silently watched the woman set a cardboard box on the stand beside his bed. It crinkled with cellophane. He could practically taste the stale, crumbling meal substitute in his mouth. The TSC's bandaid fix for their ghoul problem-- manufactured ghoul food. Why eat humans, when you can eat a block of pale brown, lab-grown sawdust? Takizawa's stomach always had a lingering ache, but the thought of chewing that stuff made it twist uncomfortably.

Granny wasn't having any of it.

"Eat up," she barked, but it was devoid of malice. "I won't have you wastin' away in my bed."

Takizawa didn't move a muscle. The old bag, Fujimura, was a constant in his new life. She was annoying, yes, but her presence grounded him in reality. He knew himself well enough to acknowledge that she was the leading reason he was even alive. Foremost by offering him a place to stay when all he had were the streets, as well as food and coffee. He would consider her more saintly if she didn't insist on jabbing his thigh with her pointy hag fingers.

"I ain't got all day."

Fujimura's prodding ceased when Seidou gingerly reached into the box for a wrapped bar. Her wrinkly hawk eyes pierced into him until the cellophane was successfully torn and the food bar was in his mouth. Naturally, she seemed all too pleased with herself as she scuttled out of the room with her cart, leaving Takizawa to glower after her with a mouth full of unchewed chalk dust. She was worse than his mother.

" _You're a man now._ "

The pang in his chest was strong enough to send a wave a nausea over Takizawa. This was becoming a recurring problem. That woman wouldn't leave his thoughts alone. With her round, happy face and warm eyes. A smile that always said how proud she was of him.

With speed they shouldn't feasibly have, his legs stumbled to the dingy bathroom across from his bed, where whatever bits of the food bar in his mouth were promptly emptied into the toilet bowl. If he had more to offer, he would have, but instead Takizawa leaned precariously against the sink, clamping his teeth around his middle and ring finger to stave off the sickly feeling. When his own blood started to tinge his tongue instead of the bland flavor of the bar, his heartrate began to slow.

Usually, if thoughts of his long-dead ( _long-eaten_ ) mother crossed his thoughts, he'd shut down. His mind would stop the memories in their tracks before he even had a chance to process them. Sometimes, her face snuck up on him. His body would revolt, overwhelmed by the storm of "feeling" in his head. He hated it.

Hated her?

_No... it’s not her fault._

With less vigor, his feet carried him back to the disheveled bed, where he fell on his side and rubbed his face with both hands. Some son he was, trying to blame his dear departed mother for his sins.

The bedroom was dark and silent again.

-

Hanbee was an open book, from head to toe. When he was frustrated, his lips pressed against each other so tightly they appeared to meld together, and the ever-present lines between his eyebrows deepened into endless pits. It never failed to get a giggle out of Suzuya.

Hearing his boss snort and chuckle, Abara Hanbee lifted his head with a disapproving frown. "You're rather distracting, you realize?"

Sprawled carelessly across lounge chairs in the conference room the two shared, Suzuya blew a raspberry. Watching Hanbee silently sigh, tuck his hair behind his ear, and lock his attention back on the spread of documents on the table in front of him made the young General hum smugly. There was no better way to spend his downtime than pester his squad member, who was working tirelessly in overtime for the esteemed Security Committee. Abara always had been a stickler.

"You _do_ know you can get back to that tomorrow, right?" Suzuya's fidgeting had resulted in him hanging upside down off the sofa. "It's not the end of the world."

Predictably, Hanbee pressed his fingers into his temples in preparation for a lecture. Suzuya beat him to it.

"It's just a few cases of chum," he whined. "It's not like someone stole a truckload of drugs."

Hanbee rather pointedly refused to look his way, instead narrowing his eyes at the bright screen of his open laptop. "TSC property was stolen. That in itself is a big deal."

"I don't see why you have to be the one slaving away to fix it," Suzuya said, picking absently at the carpet below him. "It's not your fault."

He looked up toward the table when Hanbee chuckled.

"I consider it an honor." His once pinched expression had turned into a lax smile directed at his upside-down boss. "They tasked me with finding and apprehending perpetrators of a highway robbery. Don't you think that's a bit exciting?"

Suzuya hoisted himself into an upright sitting position, cross legged and grinning. "Compared to the shit we've done? No way."

Turning back to his work with a chastising click of his tongue, Hanbee muttered something about "language" and continued skimming through articles. In the silence of the empty conference room, Suzuya chewed on his fingernails in contemplation. Hanbee tended to dedicate himself to even the more boring missions, which was appreciated in a teammate. This whole, "Boo-hoo, some folks stole our homemade ghoul food and we're mad about it!" schtick was hardly worth a Suzuya Squad member's brain power. Where Abara belonged was at the squad's game nights, enjoying leisure time, and not stuck in the cold TSC office surrounded by bullshit. Just thinking about the wasted time dampered Suzuya's mood.

His face brightened as an idea popped in his head.

"You said it was a highway robbery, right?" Suzuya asked his friend coyly.

"In a literal sense, yes," Hanbee replied. "The delivery truck was robbed...on a highway."

Hands clasped excitedly in his lap, Suzuya leaned back in his seat. If he couldn't bring Abara to the fun, he'd bring the fun to him.

"I wanna help you catch these guys!"


	2. Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suzuya Squad is brutally efficient and Takizawa has yet another existential crisis.

"Last one, granny!" a gruff voice called from around the corner.

Old lady Fujimura turned to see her helpful tenant exit the storage room of her facility, wiping his hands on his ratty T-shirt after hoisting boxes of food from the truck out back. She nodded to him gratefully. The upkeep of the place was a job for way more than one woman, so Fujimura thanked the heavens the ghouls that roomed in her complex were compliant. The massive ghoul that unloaded the community's food rations every month, Kou, was a blessing in the form of a muscle-headed doof.

"Seems like a few o' the boxes were smashed, though," Kou mentioned, rubbing a hand over his buzzed head. "Not by me! Came like that."

Fujimura waved a hand at him dismissively. "Food's food. Don't matter if it's pretty to look at."

Her answer seemed to quell the giant, as he simply shrugged, bid her farewell, and trudged up the stairs out of the storage room. In his absence, however, the old woman slumped. Delivery day was usually a joyous occasion at the complex, but as ration supplies became harder to come by and mouths to feed increased, Fujimura stressed that it wouldn't be enough. Her typical supplier had gone missing the month before, and since leaving her residents to hunt or, worse, starve, was off the table, she'd been desperate enough to cooperate with risky business.

Ghouls were willing to do anything for a decent sum of cash, including robbing an official TSC transport truck in the dead of night. Meal replacement was unnecessarily difficult to procure, and the Security Committee would not be pleased if they discovered Fujimura was housing at least a dozen wanted ghouls. She simply wasn't able to fill out a request for more than her share of meal replacement from them without risking the sanctity of her safehouse.

Risky business it would have to be, then.

A sudden commotion from the floor above her made Fujimura jump. Something falling to the floor followed by arguing settled her nerves and instead prompted the old woman to shuffle up the stairs, grumbling the whole way. Damn young ghouls, never knew how to behave for even ten lousy minutes. It was always yelling and fisticuffs with them, and never polite disagreements.

A sharp word and a smack upside the head would shut them up for the night.

-

Finding the stolen TSC cargo had been the easiest task in his career. Hanbee made a vague, impressed hum from beside Suzuya.

In the bitter cold night, the Suzuya Squad huddled in the forefront of a discreet TSC operative mission. An unsuspecting apartment complex stood in front of them, though "stood" was a bit of a stretch. Its appearance was so shambling and ancient that it didn't appear to have much longer left on this Earth. Only a couple of the windows along its face were lit. Clearly, whoever was running the shack wanted to keep to themselves.

Tough luck.

Suzuya fidgeted happily in place, shooting his partners a beaming smile. With his squad's help, the mystery of the highway robbery had been solved in merely two nights, meaning they could return to their regularly scheduled downtime at the estate in no time. Less overtime would certainly lift Hanbee's spirits, no matter how stoic he preferred to appear.

The dozen or so TSC agents following the squad signaled that they were prepared to engage. Suzuya shot them a casual thumbs-up and led the way.

Witness reports and inside information led the investigation straight to the ramshackle place located on the outskirts of the 20th. It was a dead neighborhood, or maybe the residents were simply good at staying out of sight. As the squadron of armed agents approached, Hanbee in particular felt a chill trickle down his spine. It was too quiet for his comfort. Surely the band of ghouls that had been tenacious enough to break into an armed TSC carrier truck would be ready for an invasion. There was currently no retaliation to be seen. Strolling boldly at Hanbee's side, Suzuya's head twirled all around as he looked for any signs of life.

The group stopped before reaching the staircase to the entrance of the apartment building upon Suzuya's signal. They stood by in tense silence as the young general gestured for his tight knit squad to follow him to the front door, where he knocked nonchalantly.

There was no answer. Suzuya hefted out a sigh and kicked the rotting door in without a second thought.

Quinques readied, the TSC agents radiated with nervous energy as they surveyed the dark, cobweb-infested lobby. There was no peep of life. Hands in his pockets, Suzuya nudged at the rustic carpet under their feet. This was certainly not the guns-blazing, epic showdown he'd anticipated.

"Can I help you?"

The collective jolt of attention to the voice in the corner of the room was audible, every TSC soldier fumbling to ready their quinques in sync. Suzuya and his squad turned with less pizazz.

Flashlights glaring, they found a hunched, elderly woman emerging from a dim hallway. She clearly didn't appreciate the spotlight, as she screwed her wrinkly face into a scowl and raised a hand over her eyes. Upon a quick visual sweep, she was deemed to be alone. Suzuya and Hanbee stared at the lady with mirrored befuddled expressions. Was she some sort of bait? Surely a single old woman, even a ghoul, couldn't be in charge of the dangerous ring of thugs. That being said, Suzuya had witnessed weirder.

"Good evening, ma'am!" Suzuya greeted cheerily, waving at her. Around him, the squad nodded politely.

To her credit, the grandma didn't soften up. She stood her ground but lowered her arms to brush at her crumpled apron dismissively.

"It's late, in case you hadn't noticed," she said. Her tone was bitter but careful. Suzuya's lips twitched with a smile as he scrutinized her every muscle. "I'll ask again-- can I help you?"

The lady's stance became more tense when Suzuya stepped away from his group and approached her, hands still shoved in his pants pockets. She clearly wasn't a fighter, Suzuya gathered as he got closer. She was uncomfortable, which was understandable, given there were at least ten weapons trained on her, but the lady was also very adamant about putting on a display. Signs of a person that wanted to avoid the conflict they'd brought to her. Her behavior also confirmed her involvement in the robbery.

"You can, actually," Suzuya started conversationally. He stopped a couple paces away from the woman. "Me and my friends here, we're from the Security Committee."

His eyes flicked to the lady's clenched palms.

"A few nights ago, some ghouls robbed one of our trucks," he continued. "It was all over the news, I'm sure you've seen it."

"I don't watch much television," the granny retorted quietly. Suzuya grinned at her.

"We're just here to see if you have the stuff that got stolen." Suzuya turned to look at his small army, gesturing idly toward them. "They really want it back."

A stretch of silence extended over the room. Still illuminated by fluorescent lights, the old woman's eyes passed over the masked agents coldly before settling back on Suzuya's expectant face. He knew she'd been caught. He had a feeling she knew that as well.

Yet, the decrepit woman lied. "'Fraid I don't have what you're looking for."

Suzuya rubbed the back of his head with a sideways frown. He imperceptibly signaled with his fingers for the squad to proceed. The granny backed up quickly as a wave of agents moved toward her, into the blackened hallway. She protested, calling them rather explicit names as they brushed past, but with quinques ready, the soldiers ascended the stairs to the inner levels of the complex on a search for the stolen supplies. Hanbee and Suzuya remained behind with her as the mission went underway.

"Pardon us for not believing you, ma'am," Hanbee said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "We have good reason to believe the shipment was brought here after the heist."

The woman's fists were shaking a bit at her sides, and she shot the two investigators with a deathly glower. "I haven't done a thing wrong, bastards."

"Now, no need to get agitat--"

"SIR," echoed a loud shout from down the hallway. The three whirled to the noise. "Hostiles are engaging!"

Suzuya's mouth opened in an excited ' _O_.' Hanbee looked much more distressed.

On cue, gunfire rattled the walls of the lobby. Quinque-loaded weaponry being activated was a drastic measure to take, so Suzuya was quick to slide past the granny and investigate the severity of the situations. When he rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, he came face-to-face with a TSC agent being shoved face first through a layer of drywall. The ghoul behind the attack snarled like an animal, a behemoth with a shimmering Bikaku. Suzuya unintentionally met his furious gaze.

"Sorry to interrupt," he spouted, stumbling to avoid a heavy downward blow from the ghoul's kagune. Fighting a huge guy like that on a rickety staircase was hardly ideal. Suzuya leapt down a handful of steps and whipped out his quinque effortlessly. "Surrender peacefully for me, okay?"

Down the hall, a mixture of TSC and Suzuya Squad members were in combat with ghouls of varying size and appearance. The attackers appeared to be unprepared for a fight, as a majority of them were in night clothes or half naked. Maskless, as well, meaning they weren't in a faction. Attention flitting between the action and his own personal angry ghoul, Suzuya stirred with confusion.

Blow after predictable blow rained from the massive ghoul that Suzuya was able to avoid or deflect, each miss clearly egging on the guy's bloodlust. Judging by the flung-open doors lining the hallway, the ghouls lived here. Lights were on in each dorm room, and some were sparsely furnished. It was like some sort of ghoul hotel. Suzuya ducked away from the big ghoul's fist while peering into one of the bedrooms. What did the old lady downstairs have to do with all of it? She must be a housekeeper.

"Leave us alone!" the muscle-bound guy bellowed before swinging his Bikaku at Suzuya, crashing it through the thin walls of the hall. Suzuya skittered away, but his attention was caught.

"This isn't your hideout, is it?" the Dragon General asked. He was satisfied to see the big lug pause in confusion. "You guys actually live here."

The ghoul clearly wasn't used to mid-brawl conversation. He stuttered for a moment like a broken-down car, but he collected himself with an angry huff.

"Well, yeah! That's why...you need to leave!" With greater speed than a man that large should have, he hurled a nearby lampstand at Suzuya. Embarrassingly, the leg of the wooden stand clipped Juuzou's shoulder before he could sidestep. Landing a hit bolstered the ghoul's confidence, and he charged forward like a bull on steroids.

A spray of blood exploded from the ghoul's shoulder, revealing the sharpened tip of a quinque buried deep in the muscle. The big guy howled in pain, stumbling to his knees. Rising behind him, Nakarai recoiled his blade-like weapon without emotion. His hard eyes glimmered a bit at Suzuya's bright grin.

The two left the massive ghoul to cradle his shoulder, burning from the RC suppressant qualities of Nakarai's quinque, and engaged with the TSC agents. The deeper into the building they went, the more ghouls emerged from the dormitory bedrooms, eager to defend themselves.

In one bedroom, however, the lights stayed off and the door stayed closed.

Takizawa knew the sounds of quinques ripping through flesh well. As did he recognize the pitiful wails of humans being knocked down by ghouls twice their strength. The metallic stench of blood filled his pitch-black room, even despite the blankets he'd stuffed into the crack beneath the door. He was much too tired for this.

Leaning against the wall by the door, Takizawa absently gnawed on his thumb joint. It was only a matter of time before the CCG, or the TSC, whatever the hell they called themselves nowadays, bust down the door of Fujimura's place. It had been too quiet for too long. He knew better than to fall into a lull of false security.

It was nice while it lasted, he supposed. A rumbling gunshot just outside made him flinch. He was joking himself; it hadn't been nice. His gaze shamefully falling to his shaky, bony hands and further to his stick-thin body reminded him that his stay at the old bat's hotel for wayward souls hadn't been lavish. The impending death behind his bedroom wall was making him painfully self-aware; his life was stale. Every day here had passed in a blur. The only person that knew he was alive was Fujimura, and that woman was on death's door herself. Takizawa could practically feel himself fading away into nothing.

A bullet tore through the wallpaper and whizzed past his temple.

He could open the door, walk into the battleground of a hallway, and surrender himself. A sickly smile was starting to grow on his face. What was hiding going to accomplish? Giving him a few more minutes to be a waste of space? His legs were shaking, either from nerves or from standing with little stamina. Being on a disposable sheet of paper listing the names of bodies racked up in this raid would give him a better chance of being recognized than rotting alone in a hotel room. Breathless giggles started escaping his throat as Takizawa's hand reached for the doorknob at his waist.

The investigator that killed him might even get a badge of honor for all he knew.

Without warning, the door flew open on its own, sending Takizawa staggering to the floor with a yelp. Before he had time to blink, the tip of a gun-like quinque was being shoved in his face.

"Get on your hands and put your knees above your head!" the masked soldier yelled hoarsely.

Takizawa hesitantly put his hands up, a nervous laugh on his face.

"You fucking moron," the agent next to the shaking soldier muttered. To Takizawa, clearly exasperated, he explained, "It's his first day."

"W...we've all been there," Seidou replied weakly, palms raised and muscles tensing for an incoming shot.

He had no means of defending himself. He couldn't run up a flight of stairs in his condition, much less pull out his kagune and kick ass. Unfortunately, his bravado toward being a selfless martyr had perished and he felt dizzy in the face of death. This wasn't how he wanted to go, not really. Being shot point blank by a pair of human men in ridiculous battle gear was how _every_ ghoul went. He was supposed to be special. He'd cheated death and survived by a string for this many years, only to be killed like a stray dog.

A choked laugh from Takizawa's chest made the two men share a glance. The chuckle turned into uncontrollable fit of whiney laughter. He couldn't stop himself. What a miserable creature he'd turned out to be.

"H-hey, buddy, you alright?" The two men were staring. Gun slowly lowering, the scared one started to scoot closer to the shaking ghoul on the floor. Takizawa peeled his hands away from his face to look up at them and instantly became enraged.

"No, I'm not alright!" he screeched. The nervous soldier nearly jumped out of his skin. "What are you dumbasses doing?! Get on with it!"

To his horror, the agent retracted his gun. He even had a hand up placatingly. These two assholes were teasing him. The dumbstruck look on Takizawa's face made the larger of the two men hurriedly step forward.

"We're not gonna hurt you," he said, though his gloved hand was retreating to his belt loop to pull out what a pair of hand cuffs. "If you just cooperate, you'll be fine."

 _What the fuck?_ The phrase was all Takizawa could possibly muster up. He was dreaming. CCG investigators were here to...arrest him? Jaw open stupidly, Takizawa shot his gaze to the hallway, where the sounds of combat were still loud. They obviously weren't extending the same "courtesy" to the other ghoul tenants. The soldier must have comprehended his conflict.

"Self-defense," he said simply, shrugging. "We're here to bring you guys in, not kill ya. Your kind struck first."

 _My kind...._ Takizawa's stomach twisted. His breaths were coming in ragged and shallow, but he clenched his jaw with a weak scowl at the man.

"What're you gonna do with 'em?" _With me._

The soldier was slowly getting closer. He shrugged again. "Can't say for sure. You'll be questioned. Maybe even let go."

A strange, pained sound came from Takizawa's throat.

"Up to you, if you'll just come along quietly," the man continued cautiously, then in a quick, experienced movement, he had the half-ghoul pinned to the dirty carpeted floor. Seidou didn't fight it. His hands were cuffed behind him and he limply complied as the man hoisted him to his feet.

Questioned. Let go. Not in the CCG he knew. They were going to kill him, but this time it wouldn't be a quick and easy bullet through the skull. He was going to take a trip to the meat grinder. Takizawa numbly stepped in time with the man, who shouted incoherently down the hall to his fellow agents. The noises of combat were silencing, or maybe it was just his hearing going. It would be poetic. Hired by the CCG and used up until there was no more use to be had of him, ending with his body being strung up in their fancy weapon gallery. The world around him was tipping and going dark.

"N-nice ghoul," the frightened agent said in his ear. Vaguely, Takizawa registered a cold hunk of metal being shoved over the bottom half of his face. Muzzled like a dog. The empty laugh returned, though it was weaker than before.

His life was nothing. A big old _nothing._

" _You're a man now."_

If only mom could see him now.


	3. Oopsie-Daisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's accidentally condemned their former coworkers to jail time, right? Right? Anybody else? No?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time. It just ended better there, haha.

"Sir! Are you alright?"

Hanbee's nervous prodding was the first thing that greeted Suzuya when he trekked back down into the lobby. Every ghoul they could find in the building had either been subdued or killed. Mission complete. Suzuya grinned at his partner, rubbing a smudge of blood away from his chin. "Just fine!"

The remainder of the Suzuya Squad trickled back into formation over time, standing by as TSC officials swept the area for their reports. Armored trucks were loaded with restrained ghouls to be sent to holding cells at Cochlea. In contrast, ambulances stood by to assist with injured TSC soldiers. Hanbee and several EMTs swarmed Suzuya to get a better look at his lightly bleeding shoulder, but he brushed them off adamantly. The mission was over, the stolen goods had been found, and the TSC had a handful of fresh ghouls to plop into their new program. Suzuya was ready to head home with his squad mates in tow and _relax._ It was a Saturday, after all.

Hanbee was fretting with his boss's frayed suit sleeve while Tamaki chastised him, but Suzuya found his attention pulled elsewhere.

A pair of TSC soldiers, a big guy and his twiggy partner, were hauling a ghoul into an awaiting truck. Suzuya's eyes squinted. The ghoul was limp between them, restrained of course, but its face sent a thrum of recognition through Suzuya's gut.

"Hey! Hey, you two!" Suzuya abruptly yelled to the agents, who almost tripped over each other to stop in their tracks. Their clumsy movements jostled the ghoul into view, parting its tangled curtain of hair to reveal--

_Oops._

The agents scuttled away when Suzuya hurriedly gestured " _never mind_ ' at them. It wasn't regret that he was feeling, per say, but maybe a smidgen of guilt. He was sending his old coworker-turned-ghoul to maximum security ghoul prison.

Well, everyone makes mistakes.

-

No one questioned Dragon General Suzuya when he strolled into Cochlea in his day clothes. Employees or guards side-eyed him a bit, but he would dismiss them with a lighthearted salute and a grin.

In the belly of Cochlea, a bespectacled man hunched over a mountain of paperwork, head resting in his hands. The hum of a desk fan was the sad ambience of his compact office. The documents to sign and terms of agreement to attend to were endless, it seemed.

The door to the office slammed open, causing the man to rocket upwards in his swivel chair with an unseemly squeal. The figure casting a shadow over his desk burst into laughter.

"G-General Suzuya!" the man exclaimed in shock upon collecting himself. He shot to his feet, knocking over a stack of papers to the floor.

Leaning against the doorframe lazily, Suzuya swallowed his amusement and gave the poor guy a wave. Glancing around the dimly lit office, Juuzou noted the depressing nature of Cochlea as a whole. He was putting into practice a concept Shinohara had long since been drilling him on-- empathy. Picturing _himself_ here instead of his old coworker totally bummed him out.

The nerdy-looking man in the room was scrambling to reorganize his scattered folders, stammering the whole time about not "expecting him," how "good it was to finally meet you, General Suzuya," and how his room was "an unforgivable pigsty." He stopped rather quickly when Suzuya crouched to pick up a document at his feet and hand it to the man.

"Are you the warden?" Suzuya asked.

The guy blinked with surprise, but he straightened his back and brushed at his suit front, as if to appear important. "I am, sir. Higuchi Issei."

His hand was out for a polite shake, but Suzuya had slid past him into the office to get a closer look. A particularly thick stack of papers protruding from an ajar drawer caught his eye. Suzuya pulled it out, vaguely registering the warden's concerned questions over his shoulder. He flipped through the text-flooded pages, eyes zipping up and down them, until they locked onto a familiar name. Higuchi jumped when Suzuya spun to face him and waved the handful of papers in his face.

"Those ghouls we brought in the other night," he started, "you're in charge of them?"

The man's mouth flapped for a moment as his brain raced. It was starting to grate on Juuzou's nerves, how awkward and uncomfortable the guy was around him. He was in a loose button-down shirt and shorts, for God's sake. Finally, Cochlea's esteemed warden nodded his head vigorously, humming a "yes."

Suzuya tossed the folder of papers onto a nearby desk and faced the man with his hands laced behind his head. "What're you gonna do with them?"

At least Higuchi was starting to get his act together. It only took him about a second and a half to process the question this time.

"Well, sir, they're being initiated into our new program," Higuchi said slowly. He began fussing with the papers to put them back in the drawer. "TSC protocol."

Suzuya stared at him expectantly.

"The, uh, the new program?" the man offered hesitantly.

"Oh, yeah! That one." Suzuya nodded with one hand rubbing his chin. He had no idea what the guy was talking about. Evidently, the warden grasped that.

After a moment of sifting, he took out an official-looking document bearing the TSC's symbol and displayed it for Suzuya. Bolded letters read _Rehabilitation and Reintegration._

"This is the first year we're attempting it," Higuchi said. "Those seven ghouls you brought to us the other day will be, essentially...our guinea pigs."

Suzuya glanced up from his intense skimming. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no! In fact, the program is designed around the welfare of the ghouls involved. If this batch is successful, it will become an official TSC operation. Well-funded, too."

"Reintegration," Suzuya mouthed quietly, before dropping the paper back onto the desk. He locked eyes with Higuchi, who smiled strangely. "You're letting 'em go?"

Taking a deep breath, Higuchi rubbed the back of his head, sending scruffy dark hair into disarray. He seemed reluctant to answer, but eventually he said, "If they prove viable, yes."

This conversation was taking longer than Suzuya had wanted, but he was piecing it all together. Cochlea had changed dramatically since the upheaval of the CCG. The ghouls he and his squad had arrested weren't going to be turned into mashed potatoes, after all. Most importantly, Takizawa Seidou wasn't going to be brutally murdered because of his kindly ex-coworker Suzuya Juuzou. What a weight off his shoulders.

Huffing out a sigh of relief, Suzuya brushed past a confused Higuchi to reach the doorway out of the office. He turned to bid his impromptu farewell with a bright grin. "Thanks for your time!"

Surrounded by more cluttered papers than he'd started with, warden Higuchi watched the TSC's Dragon General skip down the hallway, humming a lively tune.

He most certainly did not get paid enough for this.


	4. Daymares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone really think group therapy would work? The guy ate his own mom, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shock-- Seidou's grip on reality has butterfingers. If you're seeing evil doctors that aren't really there, seek help immediately.

Seidou woke up in a hospital bed.

White light burned his watering eyes, but he forced them to stay open. The tugging sensation of cold metal against his wrists was sending a thrum throughout his body. He couldn't open his mouth and he wasn't sure why.

Seeping through the thundering roar of his pulse in his ears, Seidou could hear music. A voice was humming along with it. He couldn't turn his head to inspect, a strap was holding his skull firmly in place against the bed. The voice became louder, until a blurry face slipped into his peripheral vision.

Seidou inhaled so sharply, he choked on his own breath.

"Good morning, Mr. Takizawa," Dr. Kanou greeted warmly with a smile.

A violent shudder radiated through Seidou's prone body. He couldn't speak, his mouth clenched shut by a rubber mechanism cupping his jaw, but a wobbly whine was starting to come out of his throat. The old man was standing over him, a clipboard in hand, scribbling some nonsense on it.

"Do be gentle," Kanou said distractedly. "Your vocal cords haven't fully recovered, and I fear further damage could be permanent."

A sensation Seidou had almost forgotten in the several years he'd been free from Aogiri was returning-- cold terror. His lips were numb and he couldn't feel his toes. How did he get here? He was in the old lady's home for strays just earlier, wasn't he? He'd been safe, _safe,_ far away from Kanou's chilling smile and mind-numbing pencil scratching. Through splotchy vision, Takizawa's eyes flitted around, searching for an escape.

All he could see were endless fluorescent bulbs and Kanou's towering shape. Hot tears were gathering in the corners of his wide eyes. He needed to get _out._ He needed _help._

_please help me_

A short woman in scrubs shot her coworker an annoyed scowl over her face mask, prompting the larger man to roll his eyes and pause the music playing over his phone's speaker. She never let him have any fun on duty. It wasn't like the half-dead ghoul secured to the operating table minded a little bit of pop music. If it did, it certainly wasn't going to say anything about it.

The sound of metal rattling made the two nurses pause their tasks at the washing station, glance at each other, then gingerly turn their gazes to the "supposed to be anaesthetized" ghoul strapped to the operating table.

"Tori, go get someone," the male nurse said under his breath, eyes not leaving the table. The woman beside him nodded quickly and started retreating to the door on the other side of the room.

The ghoul seized and made a weird sound, making her bolt the rest of the way as fast as her legs could carry her.

Sweating, the remaining nurse grabbed a syringe from a nearby tray and approached the table nervously. Just one quick prick to the tear duct and the ghoul would be out like a light.

"Easy, little guy," he murmured shakily.

Upon closer inspection, the ghoul appeared to be in a panicked, delusional state. Its eyes, one pulsing black, were pinpointed on the beaming lights above it, clearly unseeing. Under the thin sheet draped over its naked body, its chest was convulsing rapidly. Something had triggered it. Maybe the ghoul _really_ hated pop music. The nurse regretted turning it on in the first place.

Hovering a hand over the ghoul's face to inject an RC suppressant and tranquilizer into its vulnerable eye duct, the man first took a steadying breath. If the ghoul hated pop music, it must've had a seething hatred of coffee breath, as its frenzied eyes locked onto the nurse's immediately.

The syringe slipped out of the man's jittery hands. "Sh-shit!"

"Kagami!" a harsh voice boomed, making the nurse jump yet again. He whirled to see the head surgeon storm into the operating room, glowering as he always did. Overcome with relief, the nurse backed away from the ghoul in surrender.

Unceremoniously, the surgeon snatched the fallen syringe up and shoved it into the ghoul's kakugan. Almost immediately, the ghoul's struggling slowed to a stop and it drooped into unconsciousness yet again. The tall man straightened his shoulders pridefully before shooting the concerned nurse a disdainful glare.

"It's just a damn ghoul, Kagami," the surgeon sneered. "You're in control, not it. Grow some balls."

The nurse, Kagami, forced a smile at his haughty superior as he marched out of the room. He'd get over his fear of ghouls when they stopped being so damn scary. This one in particular, he mused while returning to his task of sanitizing the counters, was an infamous SS+ rated prick. Rumors of the T-Owl's uncanny ability to shred through investigators had made its rounds over the years.

Then again, time had taken its toll on the ghoul. Kagami shot it a wary frown. It was gaunt, sickly, and the testing results he and his partner had received indicated severe malnourishment. That was good-- meant the ghoul hadn't been chowing down on any people before it'd been arrested.

Kagami preferred it stay that way.

-

"Sir, they're ready for you," an armed security agent said.

Warden Higuchi nodded at the agent in acknowledgment, adjusted his suit tie, and stepped calmly into the spacious recreational room. Inside, metal desk chairs lined the tile floor and seated in a select few of them were ghouls. Higuchi's eyes swept over his audience. Most of them had their heads down, a couple were tugging absently at the enforced restraints across their wrists and ankles, and one, the largest of the group, was staring him directly in the eye. Higuchi flashed him a faint smile as he stepped into the center of the room.

"If I could have your attention, ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "Our weekly meeting will now commence."

-

" _My na... is Higuch... be your counselor."_

A muffled, distorted voice was ringing in his ears, probably coming from the vague blob walking around in front of him, but Seidou couldn't distinguish the words. It felt like his head was being pumped full of expanding foam, stuffing up his ears and makings his vision blurry. He knew the sensation well. Heavy, heavy sedatives. The weightlessness always made his stomach turn.

What little remnant of his senses he still had recognized that he was propped up in a hard, uncomfortable chair, making his back ache. Seidou squinted his eyes, putting as much brainpower as he could muster into deciphering the blob's words.

" _...start with...intro...ctions, hm?"_

A nagging little voice named _paranoia_ told Seidou to take in his surroundings. Sluggishly, he peered around to see dark shapes that eventually took the forms of chairs and people sitting in them. They were strapped down as well. He wasn't alone, it seemed. One of them noticed his stupefied staring and whispered to him.

"You okay?" After Takizawa blinked the fog from his vision, he realized it was a male ghoul with an atrocious mop of dark hair. He had a concerned scrunch to his features.

His brain was chugging far too slowly to reply, but before Takizawa could even attempt, a body stepped between him and the ghoul. Looking up with aching eyes, Takizawa frowned at the tall man smiling down at him with a glint reflecting off his glasses.

"Let's start with you," he said, and his voice suddenly became crystal clear. "Takizawa Seidou."

Ice ran through Seidou's blood. He didn't recognize the man, nor anyone else in the room for that matter. This... _human_ man knew him though. His lips twitched as he tried to force out an indignant, "where the fuck am I?" but no sound came from his mouth. Instead, he watched helplessly as the man stepped closer, glancing down at an electronic tablet in his hands.

"Mind telling us a little bit about yourself?" the human asked. His voice was patient and kind, but it sent pangs of alert through Seidou's muddled system. "Favorite color? Age? Hobbies?"

He needed to get out of here. The ghouls stuck in the chairs around him were staring expectantly. Waking up in a strange room with the spotlight shining on him was stirring his fight or flight instinct from its slumber, although discreetly tugging at the bars wrapped around his wrists produced zero results. Clearly, this was some deranged form of torture he was being subjected to yet again. Yanking harder at his trapped hands, Takizawa's breath started coming in gasps. The man was still talking, but his voice was becoming echoey and distorted.

Guards lined the walls. They all had weapons. They were all staring directly at him. A mesh of metal was covering Takizawa's mouth. He had no defenses. In his mind, he saw the soldiers dressed in black all raising their weapons and killing him before he could even bat an eye. _BAM._ Just like that.

Higuchi stood by, pausing from typing in his tablet to scrutinize the ghoul before him. The medical reports he'd received while the ghoul had been quarantined days earlier mentioned severe mental distress, manifesting in hysteria or panic. He made a note of it. The ghoul's wild eyes had taken on a glazed appearance and it was breathing heavily. Such a fast onslaught of symptoms, Higuchi mused.

"H-hey, I think he needs help," a small voice said from behind the warden.

Higuchi turned his head to the younger ghoul seated across from Takizawa Seidou. It looked distressed. Seeing ghouls show concern for one another was unexpected. Higuchi pressed his lips together in a half-smile at the youngster.

"We'll skip our friend the Owl for now." A hushed reaction arose from the surrounding ghouls. Higuchi huffed a soft chuckle before focusing on the worrywart ghoul next to him. "How about you? Hanta, right? Let's get to know you instead."

-

The first meeting of the plainly dubbed "R and R" program was a moderate success. Higuchi observed from the back of the room as the ghouls were wheeled out to be brought to their cells-- no, dorms. He wiggled his fingers at the last of the guards in an awkward wave. When they were all gone, he let his shoulders drop with a sigh.

The ghouls had been reluctant to speak, of course, as he'd expected. They were afraid, hateful, and mildly loopy from RC suppressants. Of the small group, only a few stood out. The fluffy-haired young ghoul, Hanta, had proven to have a witty mouth. He answered Higuchi's prompts when asked to introduce himself, but a quip was always included. Teenaged ghouls were not unlike humans of the same age, he'd found. A note of that had been made in his tablet.

A member that stood out in the crowd, quite literally, was the hulking ghoul named Kou. His name was the only thing Higuchi had gotten out of him, growled to him like an angry dog, but that was enough. The ghoul made even an expert like Higuchi wiggle under his glower. He'd mentioned to the security guards to keep a close eye on that one and they'd nodded quickly in agreement.

Of course, there was the Owl. One of the only ghouls among them that had already been registered into the TSC's database, partly for his notoriety as a killer and because he used to _fucking work for them._ For the CCG, at least. Higuchi played with his coat sleeve as he slowly exited the quiet room, heading for his office. Looking at the freakish man-ghoul made his stomach turn. At the same time, he was positively fascinated. He wanted to know what made the mutant tick.

Converted ghouls weren't new. Kaneki Ken was a legend around the corporation. This one, though, wasn't a goody two-shoes that tried to facade as human. Higuchi's brows pinched together, remembering the animalistic twitch in the half-ghoul's eyes as it became devoured by fear before him. This one, it required further research.

The Cochlea warden slipped into his office with purpose.


	5. Back Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in captivity drudges up memories. If only there was an on-off switch for those things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Aogiri torture porn.

Seidou's life had been a blur since he'd had his arm ripped off on the streets of Tokyo. Wake up in pain, vaguely _exist_ , pass out somewhere cold and dark-- rinse and repeat. Every day, for years. Fujimura's sanctuary hadn't been any different. This place, Cochlea, held the tradition as well.

Seidou opened his bleary eyes to a concrete ceiling. The floaty feeling was back and stronger than ever, making his stomach clench strangely. He'd be more inclined to give his new prison a chance if they stopped drugging him every two seconds.

On the plus side, he was no longer strapped in place. Seidou sat up, gingerly feeling the surface around him for stability. He'd been strewn on a thin cot covered in a sheet, tucked into the corner of a claustrophobic gray room. No obvious doors or windows. Frowning, Takizawa scooted himself against the edge of the chilled wall, feeling too shaky and abysmal to walk around in search of escape. He knew where he was. A cell. A cell in Japan's most secure ghoul prison. Lucky him.

He'd been dressed in a drab, navy blue jumpsuit while he was out, but it did little to warm his bones. Surely Cochlea could afford better heating. Resting his head against the corner of the wall, Takizawa anxiously picked at his thumbnail with his teeth, willing back the surges of paranoia in his head. He was too exhausted and high to indulge in a good, old-fashioned breakdown. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply through his nose.

Fuzzy memories of the human man and the room full of ghouls poked their heads out for him. His teeth cut deep into his fingertip when he remembered the man's fake smile and prying eyes. The mop-haired ghoul stared at him in his memory, big eyes full of worry. He didn't remember much after that. They could've done something to him while he was unconscious for all he knew. A sullen sigh slipped through his lips at that thought. At least he knew he wasn't being experimented on or sedated at Fujimura's home. Distantly, he wondered what happened to the old lady.

Didn't matter. She was probably dead. Most assuredly, Takizawa was sure he'd end up in the same grave after the TSC got what they wanted from him. The weaselly man in the glasses had offered freedom, but Takizawa was smarter than to take his word on it. Even with a new name, the CCG had a fetish for wringing the life out of its victims and leaving them to die. Or worse.

Takizawa pulled his fingers out of his mouth when he felt something cold and sticky seeping into the front of his jumpsuit. Blood slipped down his hand and onto his chest. After staring at it absently for a long moment, he remembered the whole prison was laced with RC suppressant shit. The gushing knuckle of his thumb was a prudent giveaway.

"Fuck."

-

Obviously, he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t even try. Any amount of time could’ve passed, hours, days, but eventually a masked, as well as heavily armed, guard entered Takizawa’s room.

“Up,” the guard muttered gruffly. He was already reaching out with stocky black handcuffs. Seidou pointedly didn’t move a muscle.

It was the little things. If he could get an annoyed huff out of the human as he was securing the hunks of metal to Seidou’s wrists, it was a victory. He let the guy know it, too, flashing him a weak, but shit-eating grin.

The long silence he’d spent alone in the cell beforehand had dulled his nerves. The ever-present screaming in the back of his mind had quieted to an annoying hum and his heart was no longer pulsing sporadically. It wasn’t to say he’d accepted his new prison, rather he was experiencing a fun aftereffect of his routine neurosis—shutdown. Trudging along with the bulky human guard, something like TV static danced about in Seidou’s vision. His legs marched on as his senses fell asleep.

He was tired, hungry, and cold. Come to think of it, _really_ cold. Seidou’s cozy haze of numbness was harshly ripped away by a stinging wave of ice-cold water thrown against his bare chest.

“Hold still!” a demanding, high-pitched voice screeched in his ear as he gasped in shock.

Seidou blinked droplets of water out of his eyes, looking around wildly. He’d somehow ended up in a yellowing shower stall, chained to the wall by his hands cuffed in front of him. A tsunami of abject horror and dread crashed over his head when he realized he was naked. Exposed. Restrained. A grumpy, middle-aged Cochlea attendant was scrubbing at the dried blood caked on his abdomen, but Seidou wasn’t in the room anymore.

_“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” Seidou choked, barely able to breathe through his constricted throat. “Please don’t!”_

_Tatara didn’t listen, of course. He never, ever did. He was stoic and silent, one hand firmly pressed into the small of Seidou’s back, the other pulling a curved scalpel off the stool beside him. His face pressed against the dirty, concrete wall, Seidou watched from the corner of his eye, hyperventilating all the harder as the scalpel in Tatara’s steady hand pressed into the nape of his neck._

_“Please, please, don’t,” he whined, tears and mucus making his trembling lips slippery. “Don’t, pl—”_

_The blade sunk into the skin above his vertebrae like a knife through butter. Seidou howled hoarsely._

_Fire ran up and down his spine as Tatara glided the scalpel down the length of his back. He pushed his big hand harder against Seidou’s blood-soaked back when the half-ghoul’s legs gave out, keeping him upright. The coarse grind of the metal against Seidou’s exposed spine made him violently sick, but he was immobile, unable to do much more than sob and flatten his face against the moist stone wall._

_Distantly, Kanou’s voice wormed its way into his ears._

_“Stop at the twelfth,” he was saying. Mercifully, the blade stopped in its path and retreated._

_Seidou only had a moment to shudder with relief, head lulling into his collarbone, until gloved fingers were digging into the trench down his spine. Cut nerves flared in pain._

_“Hm…” Kanou was directly behind him. He pressed harder into a spot in the middle of Seidou’s back, making him whimper. “Right here. Sever the Thoracic and Lumbar, would you?”_

Sever. _Seidou’s hot and flushed face suddenly went cold. He couldn’t move, strung up by his hands and with Tatara propping him against the wall, but he still tried to face the vile doctor. “P-p…please….”_

_He caught a glimpse of Kanou’s weathered face. It was smiling._

_“You’re helping us with a breakthrough, my friend,” he said kindly. “Do cooperate and let me know the_ moment _you’re able to move your legs again, alright?”_

_His face disappeared into a muddy blur. Seidou’s jaw dropped, but he didn’t make a sound as a chisel was struck through his vertebrae._

The bathing attendant stood in surprise when her half-scrubbed ghoul suddenly went limp in his chains, knees slamming into the tile floor with a sickening thud. Water continued to dribble out of the spout over his head.

The woman slowly approached him, nudging her foot into his shin. “Hello? You didn’t croak on me, did you?”

The ghoul moaned softly, muffled by his face being smushed against the stall wall. Good enough.

Clucking her tongue with distaste, the woman simply got to her knees and continued lathering his torso with a sponge.

-

“Hey, buddy.”

“Wakey-wakey!”

“I’m afraid he might be catatonic. Ow! I simply stated my professional opinion!”

Three different voices were swirling in Takizawa’s groggy mind, each as grating as the next. Face stiff with discomfort, he slowly opened his eyes, twitching at the bright light he was met with. Upon further inspection, three face-ish shapes were hovering in front of him.

“Professional opinion, my ass,” one jeered.

“It seemed accurate at the time,” another mumbled.

Takizawa blindly tested his mobility and found that he was unbound, propped against a wall. Taking several deep breaths steadied the vertigo in his head, enough so that he could finally see three various sized ghouls kneeling around him. Concerning.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright!” the largest of them said when Takizawa woozily tried scooting away from them. The ghoul put his hand out as if to grab Takizawa’s shoulder, sending a cacophony of alarm bells off in Seidou’s already-aching head, making him flinch hard. “O-oh. Sorry, lil fella.”

One of the other ghouls smacked the larger one’s arm. “You’re freaking the poor guy out, you brute.”

They were _following_ him as he nudged himself away at a snail’s pace, like fucking vultures. His mouth was insufferably dry, but Takizawa growled with as much venom as he could, “Leave me alone.”

The three ghouls fell silent, their eyes trained on him. One, Takizawa realized, was the kid that had shown concern for him in the meeting earlier. He still had those round, searching eyes that made Takizawa fidget. The others, the muscular prick with a buzzcut and a lanky ghoul with a bob, he didn’t recognize. At least none of them looked hungry or antagonistic. That did next to nothing to soothe the turmoil in Takizawa’s guts.

“You’re not hurt, right?” the kid asked hesitantly. “That guy, Higuchi, he said you fell.”

Did he? Frowning, Takizawa realized he’d blacked out. There was a gap in his memory from standing cold and vulnerable in a shower stall and rousing in this room with a trio of ghouls surrounding him. Not bothering to answer, Takizawa got to his feet by leaning heavily against the wall. This was the same room the human man had lectured from before. There were still seats set up in the middle of it, but the ghouls supposed to be in them were milling about, at least 5 others. It was eerily quiet.

Suddenly, a light hand was on his forearm. Takizawa stumbled backwards, startled, turning to face the young ghoul sneaking his hand back to his side. He looked instantly apologetic.

“Geez, this guy’s jumpy,” the hulking ghoul said, eyeing Takizawa while rubbing his chin.

“Heightened fear response,” the lanky ghoul added, also staring hard. The unwanted attention was not helping his dizziness.

If he had the brain power, Takizawa wanted to snap at the three freaks to scram, he was not in the mood for socializing. Unfortunately, all he could summon was an exasperated glower, which was not getting the point across, apparently.

“Gentlemen!”

The four of them turned simultaneously to the voice from the front of the room. It was the human man. He stood in formal attire, holding the same tablet with the same haughtiness. He smiled, sweeping his eyes across the silent ghouls before him.

“If I could have your attention,” he said, “we’ll begin today’s session.”

Most of the ghouls didn’t move, but a few cautiously sat in the seats scattered across the room. Takizawa stood like a deer in headlights, watching the man apprehensively. Meanwhile, the man met his gaze and held it. Overhead lights illuminated his square glasses, almost hiding the scrutinizing squint he had. Takizawa would’ve continued the staring contest, perhaps in an attempt to assert some pathetic form of dominance, but the human instead walked toward him. The ghouls turned in sync to watch him.

The man stopped a few feet ahead of Takizawa. He still had that stupid, faint smile. Seidou bristled.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Takizawa?” he asked evenly. “The nurses told me you may have…”

He tapped a finger against his own temple. “…hit your head.”

Takizawa’s stomach did an impressive flip. Why was he getting more predatory energy from a measly human man than he did from a room full of ghouls?

“I feel great,” Takizawa murmured through grinding teeth, eyes not leaving the man’s face. He had to peer up to meet the guy’s eyes. For some reason, despite not being shackled by cuffs or muzzled, Takizawa felt powerless in front of him. The line of Cochlea guards lining the walls opposite them strengthened that intuition.

“Good to hear,” the man said, then held up his tablet to type something into it. A visceral flash of Kanou towering over a younger, terrified Seidou made him twitch. He could hear the scratching of pencil against paper despite the electronic tablet. The intrusive memory scrambled away when the human suddenly bent down to become eye level with Takizawa. “Do let me know if you start to feel faint again, hm? We don’t want any more accidents.”

As fucking if. Unfortunately, the man was already walking away before Takizawa could come up with a snarky response, leaving him to stand pressed against the wall with a weird, distressed scowl smothered on his face. If he’d only met this guy a few years ago, when his physical prowess was at its peak—he would’ve kicked his ass. As it stood, the quivering, half-starved husk of the Owl probably couldn’t topple a toddler.

Maybe that was exaggerating. Not by much, though.

Hot frustration started to rise in his chest, prompting a hand to rise to his lips out of habit. The still-raw skin on his thumb knuckle stung against his teeth, but it was a comforting feeling. The past few days had stirred up far too many nasty emotions, it made his head spin. Fear, bitterness, anger, fear again, in a destructive cycle. He needed to get out of this place before it made his skull explode.

The human was droning on in front of the ghouls, gesturing and pacing like some sort of demented high school teacher. Something about “responsibilities with independence,” or “taking baby steps.” His know-it-all voice was grating.

From the other end of the room, Higuchi kept an eye on his resident problem ghoul as he spoke. Since their short, friendly confrontation, the half-ghoul appeared to sulk, curling in on himself and biting on his fingernails like a moody teenager. Since he’d been admitted, Higuchi had delved into TSC archives, digging up any information he could find on former investigator Takizawa. It was a fascinating story, really.

His disappearance and subsequent reemergence as a maneater had been directly tied to the old Eyepatch case. Kaneki Ken, Haise Sasaki, whatever he went by, he’d been the blueprint for the lab-grown ghouls down the line. On one hand, it was a downright tragedy. Good men turned into monsters for the sake of science. On the other hand…it was positively enthralling. It made Higuchi’s stomach flutter with excitement. Ghouls were a captivating species. He looked forward to getting into Takizawa Seidou’s head.

Another furtive glance the half-ghoul’s way made him do a double take—the freak wasn’t chewing on his nails… he had half of his index finger shoved between his teeth. Higuchi quickly asserted his eyes back on his tablet. A captivating species, indeed.


	6. Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the TSC is gonna give ghouls artificial food, the least they could do is give it some flavor. Dash of salt, some paprika. Anything, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time. I love parallels.

Having Shinohara over for dinner meant one thing: Suzuya Squad was eating good that night. It also meant great company from a dear friend, but _mostly_ it meant good food.

Suzuya leaned against the kitchen counter, head propped up with his elbows against the granite, watching the master at work. When praised, Shinohara would always laugh it off and claim he barely knew how to microwave frozen dinners, but any home-cooked meal tasted like heaven to Juuzou. After a minute, Shinohara seemed to notice he was being stared at.

“It’s not going to cook any faster if you watch it,” he chuckled, jostling a sizzling stir-fry on the stove.

“I know,” Suzuya chirped. There was just something calming about watching food bubble and sear. It was also good for coaxing up a question that had been sitting on his tongue for hours now. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Shinohara hummed in acknowledgement, not looking up from his pan. For a moment, Suzuya silently mused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Since the raid, he’d had a super annoying, droopy feeling in his chest. If asked, Shinohara or Hanbee would probably call it guilt. That word seemed strong.

“Do you remember Investigator Takizawa?”

The burbling from the pan was the only noise in the kitchen for a long minute or two. Suzuya started to fidget impatiently. Eventually, Shinohara stopped stirring the food and pulled it off of the burner, then contemplatively faced his young friend, brows knit.

“I think so,” he said, the gears clearly turning hard in his head. He held his hand to about chest height. “Short kid, right? Brown hair?”

Suzuya brightened, nodding. It was always a relief when Shinohara remembered life before his…rest.

Turning back to the stovetop to portion the stir-fry onto plates, Shinohara continued lightly. “Whatever happened to him, then? You two were… well, not close, but I remember you buzzing around him sometimes.”

Looking back on it, Suzuya could recall how often he spent pestering his fellow investigator. It was light-hearted, of course, he simply enjoyed getting a rise out of the guy, making his eyebrows screw together and cheeks glow red. Memories of old CCG days were rarely sunshine and rainbows, so it was a nice reprieve to dwell on.

Now, how to break the news to the old man…? Shinohara noticed when Suzuya’s wistful grin soured.

“Did he…?” the old ex-investigator trailed off knowingly. Suzuya shook his head.

“He’s alive,” he said. “It’s complicated, though. He’s kind of…a ghoul now.”

His friend fell into silence again. He did that a lot, quietly dwelling before he spoke. When he did reply, it was a soft, “I see.”

Feeling the mood dampening a bit, Suzuya waved a hand as if to whisk away the bad thoughts. “That’s not the point. I just wanted to tell you that, uh… I may have, er…”

In one breath, Suzuya finished, “Me and the guys bust into this weird old place and Takizawa was there and they took him and now he’s in Cochlea.”

Shinohara looked at him, eyebrows raised. The two stared at each other for a bit.

“Ghoul Takizawa Seidou is in Cochlea?” Shinohara clarified slowly.

Suzuya nodded.

“And you’re telling me this,” he went on, “because you feel responsible.”

Ouch. Suzuya frowned, crossing his arms. “It’s not that. It was just…bothering me. A little bit.”

His words trickled into a mumble, causing Shinohara to shake his head and chuckle. Even after all those years, he was still so in-tuned with his young partner. He could tell when Suzuya was fighting down inklings of emotions.

“From what I recall, our friends at the TSC are somewhat more ghoul-friendly nowadays,” Shinohara said, finishing scooping food onto plates for the squad. “You don’t think they’ll hurt him, do you?”

Watching the steaming beef and greens pile up in front of him captivated Suzuya’s attention, but he shook his head distractedly. He wasted no time yanking up a full plate and trotting off to the dining table.

“They told me they’ll probably let him go after a while,” he said cheerfully over his shoulder. “ _Probably._ ”

It wasn’t that he thought the folks at Cochlea would kill his old coworker, not necessarily. It was more…the gesture. Takizawa Seidou had fought with the good guys to stop Aogiri and the Dragon. He was a good person, Suzuya believed. He didn’t _belong_ in a huge, scary facility like Cochlea. Suzuya had spent enough time down there to feel its dreadful effect on a person’s psyche. Still, that warden he’d spoken to a few days ago had been rather persistent.

Takizawa Seidou would _probably_ be released at some point. Once he was, Suzuya decided to make it a point to reunite with him. A little old-school pestering would be nice for a dose of nostalgia.

Over time, the squad and Shinohara sat down and ate their portions alongside Juuzou, enjoying the downtime amongst each other. Nights like these, where they could laugh and dig into a fresh, home-cooked meal were what Suzuya lived for. The weight off his chest after his confession, he relaxed, laughing with his friends, telling bad jokes.

Everything was well in the world.

-

Takizawa had spent the last two and a half hours dry heaving into a bowl.

Whatever poison the Cochlea guard had slipped into his room was doing its job—slowly and painfully killing him. The mushy, brown substance in the bowl in his shaking hands may have been called “ghoul meal replacement,” but his stomach clearly didn’t know that. It would rather try to crawl its way up his esophagus than digest the shit.

After trying for hours beforehand to choke down the “food” into his stupid, starving body, Takizawa had resigned to his fate. The texture, the taste, his own nerves, the RC suppressant in the air, all elements that forced the gruel back up. Drenched in sweat and flushed, Takizawa pushed himself into the corner of the room, his favorite spot. More comfortable than the cot, at least. He cradled his face in his hands, holding out hope that sleep would miraculously make an appearance if he just closed his eyes hard enough.

The sharp sound of metal grating on the floor didn’t even stir him.

“You’re goin’ to be fuckin’ intubated if you don’t eat,” a deep voice muttered from the doorway. It was the same guard that had dropped off the tray of food earlier, returning to pick it up. Takizawa laughed feebly from behind his hands.

The guard scooped up the bowl and the tray it belonged with, but he stood motionlessly in front of Takizawa for a bizarrely long moment. Eventually, Seidou curled his fingers in to peer up at the man, probably looking as miserable and pissed as he felt.

The human was masked, but he was clearly looking down at him. “You realize the position you’re in, right?”

Was that supposed to be a threat? Takizawa’s brow flinched into a wary scowl.

“You do everything Higuchi tells ya, he’ll let you out,” the guard clarified. “That includes eating, by the way.”

The poorly constructed defenses built around Takizawa faltered. He had to be misinterpreting. Was this guy trying to give him advice?

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Takizawa decided to retort.

The Cochlea guard shrugged his padded shoulders, turning to exit the cell. Before he closed the hefty door behind him, he said, “Better than rotting in here, if you ask me.”

Takizawa watched him leave, befuddled. In what world did anyone care about his state of rotting or not? His stomach lurched, but not with nausea, more with…confliction. His sense of self-preservation was wishy washy at best, but something about that weird man’s words made it lean more toward washy than wishy.

In went his bruised index finger, digging into sharp canines. The world needed to decide if it wanted him dead or not.


	7. Lesson Number One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takizawa loses control and Higuchi absolutely does NOT see it coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any chapters after this one may take a while to come out. Feedback is always appreciated!

“The focus of today’s session is a little something I like to call…sharing!”

The room full of ghouls was silent save for a couple grunting their confusion. Higuchi grinned at them.

“The essentials are important,” he said.

In front of him was a large, plastic table that only held a cardboard box. He reached inside, pulling out an armful of odd, lumpy bags. Almost immediately, a majority of the ghouls perked up at the sight of it. The small bags were filled with clumpy red liquid, sloshing around as Higuchi set them in a row along the edge of the table. Metal and fabric rustled from the Cochlea guards along the walls adjusting their gear, tense and ready to move if necessary. The cardboard box emptied of the bags, Higuchi turned back to the ghouls, folding his hands behind his back.

“I’m sure you’ve already realized the contents of these packages,” he said slyly. “Genuine human blood. None of that…artificial stuff.”

The smell of copper was emanating through the room. A few of the ghouls’ kakugans activated, gazing longingly at the bags, but none of them moved. They were hungry, but all too aware of the readied quinques surrounding them. Higuchi scooped one up, rolling it about in his hands.

“All of you were given a full serving of meal replacement last night,” he stated. Briefly, his sights flicked over to a certain half-ghoul’s bowed head in the back of the room. “This exercise isn’t meant to be torture. On the contrary, it’s going to be a big step in your rehabilitation in the long run.”

The warden’s head swept back and forth, searching the assorted faces. He pointed to a particular ghoul in the middle of the group. “Yoshiro. Would you step up to the table with me?”

From the furthest backrow seat, Takizawa glanced up to watch the ghoul reluctantly stand up. It was the spindly, bob-cut ghoul that had pestered him the day before. The searing white overhead lights hurt his eyes the longer he watched the ghoul tiptoe up to the warden, so he put his head down further and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. The strong smell of blood was making him horrifically dizzy. “ _Isn’t meant to be torture,_ ” his ass.

“Hold this, gently,” Higuchi was saying. The ghoul, Yoshiro, made a sound of protest but was promptly ignored. “Once you’ve gotten a good feel, I want you to hand it to that young lady over there.”

He was treating them like children. Or like hungry, stray dogs, teasing them with scraps of food they couldn’t have. A strained sound of distress came from Takizawa’s stomach. It had been so, so long since he’d dug his teeth into living human flesh… The sensation of warm blood spraying on his face was euphoric. He was numb to it, but a strand of drool fell from the corner of his mouth to his lap. The artificial blocks of food took the edge off, but they never satisfied. A pulsing effect from his left eye signified his kakugan had awoken.

Juicy…sweet flesh… seeping blood like pineapple juice. He could practically _taste it._

“Psst.”

Takizawa snapped out of his fantasy, back straightening almost painfully fast. Whirling to his right, he came face to face with the nagging young ghoul. Initially, the kid looked startled, either by his harsh reaction or his stark, single kakugan, or both, but he collected himself quickly. The kid offered a half-smile. “You good, man?”

No, not at all.

“Yeah,” Takizawa mumbled. He absentmindedly wiped at his chin, turning his stinging red eye away from the ghoul. “Good.”

The kid didn’t look convinced, but he turned back to the action in the front of the room. Takizawa tried to nonchalantly calm his thundering heart. Since when had the little shit snuck into the seat next to him?

“Excellent!” Higuchi exclaimed. The blood bags were being passed around ghoul to ghoul throughout the room. Every ghoul hesitated before passing it on, but their eyes were constantly shifting to the armed soldiers in their peripherals. It was sickening to watch. “Hanta, you’re next.”

The kid next to Takizawa scowled when he stood up to grab a bag from the ghoul ahead of him. _It was so close._

“Feel the weight in your hands,” the twisted warden encouraged, miming the motions with his own hands. “Feel the warmth as well. Picture all of the nutrients.”

Takizawa had to clamp his lips together to keep from whining out loud, watching Hanta balance the wobbly bag in his hands. He was always hungry, _always,_ but he’d learned to stuff the feeling down. With mouthfuls of hot, congealed blood just an arm’s length away, however, his willpower was packing up and leaving town.

“Now.” Higuchi’s voice hardened. “Hanta, please pass it to the ghoul next to you.”

It almost looked like Hanta was going to refuse, shooting glances between the warden and the near-frothing ghoul beside him. Both the human and the young ghoul knew the inevitable outcome. Higuchi lazily faced a Cochlea soldier, threatening to spur him into action, until Hanta sputtered, “Okay, okay,” and held the bag out at his side. He tensed up, prepared to have the bag snatched away or worse, but instead he felt the weighty blood bag gently leave his palm. Hanta turned to Takizawa, wincing slightly when he got another look at the heavily veined kakugan blossoming on half of the ghoul’s face. Higuchi leaned forward in observation.

The bag radiated warmth through Takizawa’s frigid fingers. It was like holding heaven in his hands. Swishing peacefully in the clear plastic, bubbling at the top. There was a clot settled on the bottom. Pineapple juice.

The Owl’s gaze slowly rose to meet Higuchi’s wide, excited eyes.

His teeth tore through the plastic, unleashing a gush of blood that drenched Takizawa’s exhilarant face.

-

Somehow, Hanta felt this was his fault. He’d handed the loaded gun to the criminal, metaphorically speaking. Biting his lip, the young ghoul shot a look toward the corner of the room.

Several armed guards surrounded a single, woozily grinning ghoul. Poor guy had been tackled to the floor before he’d had time to blink, and the moment he started to struggle, a guard had shoved a tase gun against the base of his neck. The group of ghouls had watched silently, uncomfortably, as he’d been dragged to the corner, cuffed and muzzled. Meanwhile, the warden stood laxly from afar, almost appearing smug. Just looking at the human made anger fizzle up inside Hanta’s chest. He may have blamed himself, but he blamed that asshole more.

If anything, he was almost impressed. The mysterious one-eyed ghoul had the gall to do what none of the others had—defy Cochlea’s warden and bathe in his rebellion. It was a cool gesture, even if it ended with disaster.

“That’s why we made extras,” Higuchi laughed.

The ghouls were getting restless. Blood was spilled all over the floor where Takizawa had popped the bag, releasing a strong scent of food. Between hunger and adrenaline, none of them could sit still. The warden knew that.

“We’ll enter a break period,” he said, “and you’ll be returned to your rooms while we clean up.”


End file.
